A Black's Tears
by Dawn96
Summary: They could not cry... so they would laugh… a sign of their suffering- of their agony in their poisoned veins… So pray tell, if laughter is their tears- if laughter is their pain, then what is their joy?


**A Black's Tears**

**A.N: It was in my mind ever since and I just had to let it out- anyways, Read, Enjoy and Review!**

They were raised not to cry. That was their rule. Blacks don't cry. When things got desperate, they were not allowed to cry. When things got stressed they were not allowed to cry. When things got tough and helpless, they were not allowed to cry. When they felt the need to cry, they were not allowed to cry.

Crying was a face of weakness, and Blacks were not those to be called weak. They were strong and stone-hearted, they were not emotional pricks who felt the need to show their emotions to the world. No. they were supposed to bottle it up, make themselves a void to the world- keep themselves from the impurity of the world. They had to keep clean and pure, and not let those who are unworthy to interfere with them.

_"We Blacks don't cry. We don't give our feelings- our tears to those who are unworthy of us. Since we are the most highest, we can't let anyone lower than our status to see…"_

_"Hold your head high, for all those around you a filth, and you are the one purifying this world."_ _Black's don't cry- we're not weak and we don't show any of it!"_

By time, things got desperate-things got tense as the war had started to grow and rise at such a rate that they couldn't hold on. Sirius would gaze at her. Lily. She was sobbing her heart out on James' shoulder and he was holding his tears- not for shame- but for giving her strength. He caught a few tears falling out of his brimmed eyes, but he did not wipe them away, ashamed. He kept her in his arms and cried with her, as the world was tightening around them. Sirius wanted nothing but to have that cry right now- wanted nothing but to pour his woes and relieve his heart… nothing but to join them in letting his agony out… but he couldn't. Old habits die hard…

_Blacks don't cry._

She was losing her mind. The Dark Lord, or Rudolphus? Her husband or her master? Rudolphus had loved her- he still loved her even though they were arranged to please their families. But he loved her- he loved her with such passion and true that she wanted to cr- no! Blacks don't cry! Then there was the Dark Lord. He had praised her- his most loyal, his most faithful, the most powerful, the most… He had praised her so much- beyond his other Death Eater and she always caught his eyes casting over her with that satisfied smile… She didn't know if she loved Rudolphus… did she? She felt nothing towards him. When his name was told, her heart didn't flicker… when he cast his arms around her, she didn't flinch in content, when he kissed her, she couldn't help but imagine someone else was doing it…

It hurt. Her mind, her brain, her thoughts! She felt so tensed and so stressed that she wanted to scream, to curse, to yell, to kill… to cry… but she couldn't… Orders were hard to let go of…

_Blacks don't cry._

Narcissa rocked back and forth in her bed. She couldn't stop thinking that her mind threatened to blow up. Lucius was in Azkaban, Draco was in danger, the Dark Lord was keeping his eyes all over her, Bellatrix was on the loose… She was going to lose her son. She was going to lose him and that was a fact- there was no way Draco could achieve such a mission! He was going to die and she knew it! Her son was dying and her heart was pumping pain through her veins… then, why wasn't she crying? Why wasn't she pouring her heart out in agony for what was going to become of her only child- her only son… a part of her, a part of her blood and flesh and bone… a part of her was dying and she couldn't bring herself to mourn- why? She tried… she tried so hard but she always remembered that command… But Draco was worthy of her tears- he was! He was! He was worth all the Blacks! But… some rules weren't meant to be broken…

_Blacks don't cry._

He was dying. He was going to die. It was a complete fact- so true and so clear. The locket dangled in between his finger that he heard the faint rustling of the paper inside it from the silence that enveloped it. He was going to die. He stared into the depths of the fire that licked distastefully against the wood. It took over everything leaving ash… a symbol of their victory. But… he had no victory… he was the ash, slowly left then thrown away. He thought of Sirius, who probably hated his living guts, he thought of Narcissa, whose tortured face was a vivid picture in his mind from what Lucius was going through, he thought of Andromeda, whom he hadn't seen since he was twelve, he thought of Bellatrix, who was probably on the search for his blood… He thought of his father, who was barely seen at home, he thought of his mother, who called him 'Sirius' to ease her pain… why was everything so dark? Why was everything so messed up and so painful? When did he get himself trapped into this mess? When? Why did life take a turn like this?

He wanted so badly to scream, to rip his hair out- to cry! He wanted to pour his tears out that had been locked in his heart since who knows when! Trapped, making his heart ache and hurt so much that he couldn't stand it. He wanted to at least be at peace inside when he was going to die… He was going to die! The pain ran through his veins like poison that it hurt his entire body… he wanted to cry. He pleaded to cry. He didn't care how weak he looked, he was at the end of the line… what was left for him? He begged to cry but… Some threads stay etched for ever.

_Blacks don't cry._

Her daughter was in danger. He daughter was in great danger. Her daughter was beyond danger- she was dying. She was leaving her. There was no hope, she saw it in her eyes when Nymphadora had told her she was going after Remus, to fight. She knew her daughter knew of her own fate- knew that this was the end. Andromeda stared at the wall ahead. Her daughter could be thrown at a wall now, or tortured to death, or drowned, or- or… She wanted to cry. She wanted to mourn. She wanted to feel her own pain leak out- to prove to herself that she wasn't a Black through and through and that she had emotions that she would show to the world. She wanted to show not the world though- she wanted to reassure herself that she wasn't stone hearted. That she wasn't cold and that she cared. She knew her heart cared but she wanted her body- the body that bore her daughter, that made her be and grow and live, could mourn what it once made.

Teddy started crying all of a sudden from the bedroom upstairs. She raced up towards him, to find tears leaking out of his golden eyes that reminded her so much of her son-in-law. She wished she could cry like him. To show her pain- her agony whenever she wanted. She wanted to feel light again- not heavy and pulled towards the earth. She wanted to cry and express her agony for Nymphadora and Remus. For this little boy who was going to become and orphan. To cry for Ted- for Ted who was everything… but… Some scars remain eternally.

_Blacks don't cry._

They couldn't cry when things were stressed. They couldn't cry when things were tense. They couldn't cry in agony or pain. They couldn't cry when troubled or hurt. They couldn't allow emotion to leak out of their faces… But, a human had to express… a human had to at least, somehow throw something out of his heart. A human had to at least let out something…

The Blacks… they couldn't cry for pain, stress or agony… they couldn't cry to keep their souls relaxed… they couldn't, they can't… That's why…

Sirius laughed before he died- he let out all the pain- the agony of loosing James and Lily, the pain for leaving Remus, the vengeance he felt for Peter, the shame he felt from himself towards Regulus, the guilt he felt towards his parents, the torture he felt for for-everything! Especially, for the boy who was slowly wilting away from next to him. He laughed at his disgrace to himself for not remaining longer. For not helping him-_ him_- a piece of James. A piece of his brother. He couldn't protect James once and he couldn't do it again- he laughed at being so useless. He laughed- because he wasn't allowed to cry.

Bellatrix laughed when she had the knowledge- when she slowly saw the curse of death come against her. She laughed when she saw Molly Weasley- a filthy blood-traitor piece of scum- kill her. She laughed out all the bitterness for dying such a way, she laughed all the anger she felt towards her master, who hadn't come to her aid, she laughed all the stress she had from Rudolphus, she laughed all the humiliation she felt to Narcissa- that traitor! She laughed all the fury she felt towards Andromeda, she laughed of all the mockery from Sirius and Regulus… she laughed all her sorrow- her pain, her stress, her confusion, because- she wasn't allowed to cry.

Narcissa laughed. She laughed so hard when Draco came to her with Snape holding the scruff of his neck. She laughed so hard when she saw tears well up in his eyes. At the sight of his tears- his grey eyes sparkling with them effortlessly, she laughed harder. She laughed at all the anger she felt towards Lucius for letting her son get in such a state. She laughed all the hatred she felt towards Voldemort. She laughed all the loneliness, Andromeda had pursued her in when she ran away. She laughed all the sorrow, she felt for Sirius. She laughed at all the bitterness, that Regulus- her darling Regulus!- had to endure. She laughed all the fury she felt towards Bellatrix. She laughed at the sympathy and grief she felt towards Dumbledore… she laughed. She laughed and laughed and laughed- she laughed harder when Draco collapsed on the ground, buried in his own tears. She laughed more and more at the sight of her con so crumpled and torn- she laughed, because she couldn't cry. No matter how much she wanted it- no matter how much she wanted to tear the tears out of her heart, she laughed- because she couldn't cry.

Regulus laughed as he stared into the depths of the fire. He laughed a laugh bloodcurdling that Kreacher had turned to moan in the corner, covering his ears. He laughed on and on that his voice turned hoarse and rasp- but he didn't care. He laughed on and on and on- his voice croaked and he gasped for breathe but he continued laughing. He laughed all the hurt and guilt he felt towards Sirius, he laughed all the torture he was feeling for Narcissa, he laughed all the hatred he felt towards Bellatrix, he laughed all the vengeance he felt towards Voldemort, he laughed all the sorrow he felt towards Andromeda, he laughed all the feelings of not being needed by his father. He laughed his feelings of being replaced by his mother. He laughed his feelings of being 'just the spare' by his parents. He laughed the bitterness and irony and- and everything of dying! He laughed because he was dying! He laughed- because he wasn't allowed to cry.

Andromeda laughed. She laughed in the face of the man informing her of her daughter and son-in-law'd death. She laughed so hard that the man had taken a step back with a face of surprise and shock. How? How can she laugh at the death of her children? Was there a woman so heartless? She was far from heartless… She laughed. She laughed all the anguish, the pain, the agony towards her daughter. She laughed all the woe and guilt she felt towards Remus. She laughed all the confusion and hatred towards Bellatrix. She laughed all the pity she felt towards Narcissa. She laughed all the regret she felt towards Regulus. She laughed all the sore she felt for Sirius- and her wrong judgment towards him. She laughed- she laughed for her want in of vengeance towards Ted. She laughed- she laughed so hard that Teddy had started to cry, she saw his cheeks, gleaming with precious tears and she laughed more. She laughed louder and raspier… she laughed- her laughter an echo. She laughed for her family… so strong, now so weak… she laughed- because she couldn't cry.

The Blacks- taught not to cry… yet human's need to feel a relief of tears- it's common human nature. They laughed- their laughter a sign of their tears… they couldn't let their tears escape- they couldn't let the world see them in a state of crumpled and pain… so they would laugh… a sign of their suffering- of their agony in their poisoned veins… So pray tell, if laughter is their tears- if laughter is their pain, then what is their joy?

**Review?**


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